Last Monday I went to a funeral; last Wednesday I got Covid-19 — for a second time. This variant had harsher symptoms. Thankfully, I had my vaccinations and boosters and I qualified for Plaxlovid that keeps it from getting worse. 

Some friends were surprised that Covid is still around. They were unaware that at least 600 people a day still die of Covid and 3000 a day are hospitalized. It’s no longer a pandemic that affects all of us, but it sure affects those real people, their families, and friends.

During my lying around, I recalled giving part-time pastoral care to a church at the outbreak of Covid. This is the fourth anniversary of when I was forced from taking homebound communion, leading nursing home services, and visiting people at home to writing notes or making phone calls — lots and lots of phone calls. Not going in person was now the loving act.

Maybe it was fever fog or Covid brain, but it dawned on me that I was prepared for phone counseling back in 1979 when I was 22.  I was a Psychology major at Emory and I entered seminary to do pastoral care in a church. My mentor suggested I volunteer with “Contact Richmond” which was a 24-hour, 800 number, phone counseling service in the basement of a church near my seminary.  Since I learned to pull all-nighters in college, I took the 11 pm to 7 am shift every Thursday.

I contemplated changes in technology that makes phone counseling from a church basement a dinosaur. I grieved the changes that haven’t occurred in access to affordable and available mental health services. I reflected on some of the phone calls I received 45 years ago. One man called every month or two; he was bi-polar and when he was off his lithium and manic we’d talk for three hours until he was tired out. I guess I was being prepared for being bi-polar too.

What earlier experiences in your life prepared you for a challenge now? How has grieving in the past strengthened you for griefs today? When have you been surprised by skills you’ve been given you weren’t seeking?